A Tale of Two Fathers
by Inks Inc
Summary: When DiNozzo Junior and DiNozzo Senior come to blows, Tony begins to spiral out of all control. Can the trusted Gibbs bring him back to earth? This is my first NCIS fic!- Contains: Spanking
1. Chapter 1

Tony winced as the seemingly never ending verbal barrage that formed his well earned reprimand fell around his ears. The rebuke seemed to echo mockingly in the tight confines of his boss's office, or as mere mortals would describe it, the main elevator. He absentmindedly made to reach up and rub the searing sting from his head whilst looking as contrite as possible, but faltered and dropped his hand limply by his side as Special Agent Gibbs's eyes flashed a clear warning to his wayward senior agent.

Closing the already sparse distance between the two men, Gibbs reached out once more and issued another smart rapt across the back of the younger man's head. Predictably, the chastised Tony hissed and made to back away from his angry boss into the furthest corner of his metal confines. Putting a firm hand on his shoulder, the older agent effectively prevented his recalcitrant agent from squirming away, speaking quietly but menacingly, causing Tony to flinch further.

"This is your one and only warning DiNozzo. If you don't drop the smart ass attitude and back chat, you and I are going to have a serious _discussion._ You are the senior agent on this team, and I will not have you setting this wise guy example for McGee and David, and flouting my authority in the process. I don't know what the hell has gotten into you this last week, but you better god damn knock it off before I knock it out of you. Now, did you catch everything I just said, or do I need to repeat myself?"

Watching as the now subdued Tony shook his head meaningfully in the negative, and dropped his gaze in sheepish chagrin, the anger Gibbs felt with his most taxing, but rewarding, agent melted slightly. This attitude wasn't like Tony, sure he was lippy on his best days, but always in a jovial, class clown way. Not this sarcastic, scathing and disrespectful way. Instinctively knowing something was up with his agent, he dropped the hard assed gunny tone and placing a gentle finger under the kids chin, tipped his head up to level eye contact between them.

"Is there something bothering you Tony?" he asked simply but softly, silently castigating himself for his pretty hopeless skill level with the whole _feelings_ arena. When Tony merely looked at him in confusion, he sighed somewhat. "This behaviour isn't like you" he explained in answer to the unspoken question.

Tony snorted in response, "isn't like me? Don't you keep telling me that I'm the reason for your early onset retirement plan boss?"

Very softly Gibbs extended his arm once more and tapped the younger agents head in gentle affection, not reprimand. "Yes, you are" he agreed smiling somewhat, "but no, this behaviour _isn't_ like you. It's off character." Studying his usually bubbly agents somewhat sunken face, the former marine took a deep breath before stating quietly "you know if there's something wrong, you know outside of the job, you can tell me. It doesn't make you weak DiNozzo."

Tony's gaze raked the surprisingly open features of his usually closed off boss and opened his mouth hesitantly, before to Gibbs's frustration, his eyes clouded over with some unidentifiable emotion and he clamped the potentially behaviour explaining mouth tightly shut. Shaking his head and plastering on his trademark DiNozzo smile that didn't quite meet his eyes, he held his hands up in a self deprecating gesture.

"No boss, I'm fine. I was just… out of line, it won't happen again" he explained in appeasing conviction, so much so that anyone who didn't know the man well would believe. To Gibbs's trained ear however it sounded forced, and unwillingly insincere. Sighing in frustration, he knew better than to try and force information from Tony, the more he pushed the more he would clam up. Nodding his head to the kid's weak explanation, he unblocked the emergency stop button of the elevator bringing it to life again as he so often did after an impromptu meeting in the makeshift office.

"Ok DiNozzo, just know the offers there. In the meantime, any more smartass lip or disobedience is highly inadvisable; don't make me make do something that I don't want to do but that I will, got it?"

Shaking his head obediently, but without seeming like he was really there, Tony mumbled "got it boss" and lapsed again into another uncharacteristically silent bout of thought as the elevator trundled back to their bullpen haunt.

After the intervention meeting of sorts, the week slipped by lazily and under Gibbs's watchful eye Tony was on his best behaviour. This was to the older agent's relief, but also to his concern. Tony was the model agent, but he wasn't _Tony._ He was polite, but guarded. Obedient, but absentminded. Watching the younger man work diligently at his desk when usually he would be attempting to goof off due to the cold cases the team were stuck on, caused Gibbs far more worry than he cared to admit.

His frustrations and attempts to come up with an idea to make the solemn Tony tell him what was bothering him were interrupted by an urgent call. Listening in rapt attention, Gibbs sighed in relief at the fact they had a new case. Standing immediately and reaching for his gun, he strode from the pen, barking over his shoulder at his team to grab their gear and move their asses.

It was as the team waited at the particularly grizzly crime scene for the arrival of Dr Mallard and his trusted puppy protégée Palmer, that the issue of Tony's previous attitude reared it's Gibbs enraging head once more. A squabble had broken out amongst Tony and Tim, which was admittedly far from unusual. Ziva had long since rolled her eyes at the juvenile pairing and had moved away to examine trees for potential gunshot fragments and was therefore out of the line of vision and audio when Tony decided to side step, stepping over the line, and instead flung himself over the line.

Unfortunately for Tony, Gibbs had retained a perfect line of vision on his two boys and both saw and heard first hand as the older agent pushed the junior one hard, against a nearby oak tree and raise his fist to strike. DiNozzo only had a few milliseconds to savour his outrageous pinning and verbal accosting of the stuttering McGee, before he felt a piercing and forceful yanking of his upper arm, pulling him away from the shocked probationary agent.

Gibbs retained his crab like hold on his now quiet senior agent ran his practiced eyes over his junior agent searching for any signs of injury. Satisfied that there were none, he calmly ordered McGee to join Ziva in searching the foliage some distance away which McGee did instantly, nearly tripping over his feet in haste.

"Boss – I…"

"Not one word out of your mouth DiNozzo, not one."

Tony snapped his mouth shut as his boss began to drag him unceremoniously towards the parked NCIS van. Yanking open the passenger side, the volatile agent thrust the younger man in and slammed the door shut. Stopping only to inform the freshly arrived Ducky and Palmer that they would have to drive McGee and David back when they completed the crime scene work, Gibbs hopped in the van and roared it into life.

Palmer stared after the rapidly retreating van in evident confusion.

"Dr, do you think Tony has taken ill?" he asked in genuine concern of his own mentor, alarmed by Gibbs's abrupt tone and Tony's paled complexion.

Ducky, having had much more experience of the dynamics of the two departed men chuckled softly in response.

"No, not ill Mr Palmer. Though I daresay his physical condition may well be on the edge of significant soft tissue deterioration."

Palmer nodded in what he hoped was a sage manner, not having a mere sniff of a clue as to what the rather eccentric doctor was actually saying but knowing that there were certain aspects of the extended team he had been thrust into that he would never understand.

Tony felt the air in the cab of the squealing van to be in scarce supply as he gulped it down his windpipe, all the while shooting furtively appraising glances at his resolutely silent and seething supervising agent. He had long since decided firmly against speaking, knowing that the time for words had taken up firm residence on the proverbial sailing ship. Instead he settled for mentally chastising himself. He couldn't even believe his own actions in physically touching another agent in anger, an agent under his own command at that. An agent who, though he'd never admit it, was his friend.

He closed his eyes in desperation at his own stupidity and wondered who in the hell would employ him now. He knew that Gibbs couldn't deal with this in their usual…. _manner._ He was positively sure he'd gone far too far this time; Gibbs would have no choice but to report the incident to the director who would quite rightly insist on his immediate transfer out of the NCIS and into, presumably, the vast expanse of unemployment that waited with open arms and curled lips for the law enforcement agent who attacked his own. As the van swerved dangerously into the naval crime base he winced as a short, loaded order made its way from the previously muted driver.

"Out. Conference Room Four. _Now."_

As Tony obediently did as he was told, the van sped away once more, presumably being returned in a less than ideal condition. Entering the federal building wearily under the weight of his own foolishness, the saddened and guilty agent made his way quickly towards and into the Gibbs commandeered conference room that was housed in a separate wing of the building that only janitorial staff visited briefly each day. As he plopped himself down miserably in the nearest available chair, he couldn't help but think about the first time, many years ago now, that Gibbs had dragged him to the isolated, sound proofed and observation window/camera devoid room. His face flushed at the memory of his first meeting with the older man's belt.

Glancing around the room he realised with chagrin that he'd actually miss it when he was gone. Not because of the various and many corrections he'd received in it, he snorted, god no. The comfort his boss never failed to give him afterwards, however, yes. He cringed somewhat as he realised he'd received more hugs and words of reassurance from his supervising agent in this room down through the years, than he ever had from his own father from the day he was born.

As the thought of his father infiltrated his mind, he closed his eyes and tried to force it back out. His god damn "father" was the cause of this he thought in fury. If he hadn't come stumbling back into his life, after years of sporadic at best contact, none of this would have happened. Every time his borderline estranged father reached out to him, it would eventually end in tears. This time, it was the scathing criticism of DiNozzo Senior of his son's career choice and promotion progression that ignited a particularly vicious row. Tony squeezed his eyes tighter shut as he remembered the loaded words his father had spoken of his achievements, or according to him, lack thereof. He was suddenly jerked out his reverie as the conference room door snapped open suddenly, and a grim looking Gibbs stormed in.

Seeing his hard headed agent slumped in a chair and staring quietly at the floor, he clicked his fingers and indicated to a spot on the floor, right in front of him.

"Front and centre right now DiNozzo. Move it."

Tony obediently moved into the familiar position, except this time he wasn't sure what for. Usually Gibbs would take time in reaming him before warming his rump. This time, it seemed redundant seeing as he was out of NCIS in a matter of working days.

Taking a deep breath he looked into the eyes of his more-than-just-a-boss boss and felt an intense pang of misery when he thought about how much he would miss him. Steadying himself, he asked the one set of questions that mattered most to him in the moment, intentionally doing so before Gibbs could say anything.

"Can I please apologise to McGee before I go? Do you think he'll see me? Do you think the director would allow it?"

It wasn't often that the seasoned Jethro Gibbs struggled for words, but this was an exception.

Staring at the clearly pained agent for a few seconds, he eventually managed a not so impressive "huh?"

Staring at Gibbs in frustration, Tony fought to keep from throwing his hands up in the air in angst.

"Do you think Tim will talk to me before I go? Please bo…Gibbs, I need to apologise to him."

The dawning of realisation was beginning to cross the older man's face, but he needed clarification.

"Go? Go where DiNozzo?" he inquired, with a certain…something to his tone.

 _Is he being deliberately dense_ thought Tony, in the beginnings of irritation.

"I mean before I get fired" he eventually explained quietly, dropping his gaze to the floor once again. Although he knew it was going to happen, saying the words out loud made it terrifyingly true. Biting his lip to keep it from trembling, he waited nervously for Gibbs's response. He didn't anticipate that his response would be non verbal. Feeling the familiar searing pain at the back of his hand, he automatically reached up to rub it furiously.

Watching the surprised Tony yelp at the well delivered head slap and massage his stubbornly thick skull, Gibbs suppressed the urge to reach out again and smack him into next week. He settled for grasping the clueless kid by the shoulder and leaning further into his personal space that ever ought to be necessary. Tony predictably grimaced as he was pinned into his boss's grasp with nowhere to turn. Looking his reprobate agent straight in the eye, he ground out in true to form pissed off Gibbs style.

"You think I told the director about this DiNozzo?"

One look at the pooled sadness in the younger mans eyes told him all he needed to know, even without the affirmative jerk of the head Tony meekly offered in response. Sighing in frustration at the kids still obvious insecurities, he quickly turned the now silent agent to the side and quickly landed a volley of firm and deliberate swats across his backside. Tightening his grip in response to the squawking attempts to break free the surprised man was making, he added another rapid succession of resounding swats on the vulnerable rear.

Releasing his hold on the now quietened younger man, he watched in silence as Tony's hands flew back to rub the sting from his backside and protect it from further attack. When Tony's eyes eventually met his he answered the unspoken question they contained.

"You should god damn well know by now that I would never permit you to be fired, not even when you deserve to be. _That's_ what that was for" he stated as if it was the simplest thing in the world. As murderously furious as he was with his senior agent and as well practiced he was at playing the tough gunny boss, even Gibbs had to fight to suppress a smirk at the look of staggering relief, tinged with surprise that covered Tony's face in response.

"Really?."

Peering up at his boss, Tony suddenly looked every part like an unsure little boy.

"Yes, _really_ DiNozzo" Gibbs replied quietly. The fact that Tony still had such a hard time believing that he, or indeed anyone, would go above and beyond to protect him at all times still tore at his heart.

Pushing away these feelings, he willed himself to return to the present moment. Although he would never willingly let the kid be fired, there was no way on god's green earth his latest screw up was going to go without notable consequence. Feeling his face take on its firmest disposition, he once more pinned Tony down with a glare and spoke in a consciously forced level tone.

"Now, do you want to tell me what the hell is going on with you and why the hell you thought it was perfectly ok to push, yell at, and attempt to strike a fellow agent?"

The relief that had flooded through Tony like a burst dam now gave way to trepidation. If he wasn't going to get fired, he was now seriously in for it in other ways. Distinctly unpleasant ways. Clearing his throat nervously, he decided in the split second that he stared at his glowering boss just to come clean about what had caused his attitude to nosedive, taking his normally bouncy personality along with it.

"I..I've had a bad week or two boss. My father….you know how we don't really….well, you know. He turned up at my apartment a week or so ago, as he does every couple of years and we pretty much got into it. I really let it get to me, and I dealt with it…well I guess I dealt with it like a child. At the crime scene, McGee and I were disagreeing about whether or not the petty officer could have committed suicide and it turned into a disagreement. McGee said something that…well, that reminded me of something my father said and I guess I lost my cool a bit. That's no excuse for what I did however and I'm sorry boss"

Dropping his eyes from his boss's, Tony gazed at the floor miserably.

Gibbs for his part could have kicked himself as he listened to his agent's explanation. It was a testament as to how irritated he was with himself that he didn't launch into his usual dressing down giving that ensued when he felt his people were making excuses for their behaviour. Now that Tony had explained what was ailing him, it was glaringly obvious and he should have seen it. The _only_ thing that made his agent act in the way he had been behaving was his extremely flawed _father._

The older agent felt his jaw tighten when he thought of DiNozzo Senior, more particularly what he would like to do _to_ DiNozzo Senior. He breezed in and out of Tony's life when it suited, why it suited and then left without a backwards glance and he had to watch the turmoil DiNozzo Junior would go through before eventually pulling himself together, until the next visit that is.

Sighing he strode forward and tried not to grimace as he saw Tony wince, clearly expecting a Gibbs slap. Tilting the young man's head up from the floor with a gentle finger, he leant into his personal space once again, this time in a much more reassuring than reprimanding manner.

"Whatever he said to you Tony, you need to know that it means nothing. He may well be your father, but he doesn't know you. He doesn't know the exceptional young man that you are, and one day he'll realise that and regret it. Until then, don't you ever let him tear you down like this again. You're who you are in spite of him, not because of him. You got that?"

Tony looked agape at his usually emotionally stunted boss's display of candid openness. Nodding his head dumbly, he felt a rush of affection for the older man.

Stepping back from the younger mans personal space once more, Gibbs also nodded, his gruff manner returning as a matter of course, unused to giving such a long speech about anything non work related. Sighing in reluctance, he realised that no matter what the provocation for his agents actions there was no still no way he could let it slide without consequence.

As if reading the older man's mind, Tony gave a slight jerk of his head and slipped out of his NCIS field work jacket. Draping it over the chair he just arose from, he walked more determinedly than he felt to the nearby mahogany desk planted squarely in the middle of the room. With the air of someone who had been there many times before, he quickly placed his palms downwards on the shiny surface and bent over it.

He bit his lip to keep it from trembling as he heard his supervising agent move into position behind him. He bit down on it harder when he heard the tell tale sound of his boss unbuckling his belt, and the whooshing sound of the heavy leather being pulled quickly through the belt loops. As the warm hand came down on the small of his back, both restraining him and comforting him, he closed his eyes in anticipation of the familiar fire that was about to be lit across his backside.

As he placed his hand on the small of his agents back, Gibbs closed his eyes in reluctance. He never relished having to take any of his people in hand, but when the person was Tony, and the reason why he had acted the way he had was laid out before him, it made what he had to do a whole lot harder. Steeling himself he reminded himself sternly that Tony's behaviour was still entirely unacceptable and that McGee could have been seriously injured had he not intervened in time.

Raising the belt high, the older agent brought the first of what would be many strokes down hard across both cheeks of his upturned agent's backside. As he always did, Tony yelped loudly at the first searing blow and bucked sharply under Gibbs's strong hand. Applying more pressure to steady the younger man, the belt came down quickly once more, landing expertly underneath its predecessor.

Gibbs soon settled in a time practiced rhythm, bringing down each stroke of the belt in rapid succession, allowing just enough time in between for the sting to reach its peak, but not enough to allow any kind of an appreciable respite.

Tony soon began whimpering and squirming slightly as the heat began to rise across his rear. Gibbs was meticulous in his discipline methods, bringing the belt down heavily across every square inch of the exposed posterior. Another whimper of lament escaped Tony's lips as his squirming was put to an abrupt end by a well placed warning swat across his sit spots and increased pressure on the restraining hand placed on his back. As Gibbs began another cycle of deliberate swats at the top of his already furiously stinging backside, the first of many tears sprang up in his eyes.

A few moments later the embryonic tears had grown up, moved out, taken out a mortgage and become full on howling. Tony had completely abandoned all pretences at a stoic and gallant acceptance of his punishment, and was categorically sobbing into his arms as his silent boss continued to rain down stroke after stroke on his previously perfectly pale and unassuming rear. As a fresh progression of swats began anew, the loud sobs and promises of perfect behaviour from now till death do us part gave way to silent racking sobs, that radiated through the otherwise now limp and still body that lay slumped across the desk.

Biting down on his lip against the feelings of guilt that racked his own body, Gibbs began to draw Tony's punishment to a close, to his own extreme relief. Tipping the kid forward slightly by increasing the pressure on his back for the last time, he reluctantly applied one last volley of well placed and unyielding strokes on the already well chastised sit spots of his senior agent. At the conclusion of the last swat, he dropped the belt from his hand immediately and the hand that previously housed it went instinctively to the small of his quietly sobbing agents back.

Leaning over to be closer to the still sobbing Tony, he began to mutter words of reassurance to the boy, all the while rubbing consistently comforting circles on his back. He stayed in that position with his agent for several minutes, talking to him in a soft, gentle and very un-Gibbs voice, keeping his hand loosely on his back.

When Tony's crying had whittled out into gentle snuffling and sniffling, Gibbs stepped back to give him some space to compose himself and stand up at his own pace. Snatching his belt off the floor, he quickly threaded through his pants loops, not wanting Tony to see it as any more than another mere article of clothing when he stood up.

A few moments later Tony had comported himself enough to stand up and wipe his hand across his wet eyes. His normally pristine hair that caused him so much vain pleasure, was loose around his eyes and hung limply over his forehead. His face was flushed and he winced as he moved away from the desk, the fabric of his trousers rubbing mercilessly against his presumably enflamed backside. Peering up through the unusual curtain of hair that framed his eyes at his boss, he looked sheepishly rueful.

Casting an appraising eye over his senior agent for a moment, Gibbs did not speak, he merely opened his arms widely and raised an eyebrow at his now puppy dog look-a-like reprobate. The traditional goofy grin that spread across the kids face was not unprecedented and it caused the older man to snort somewhat affectionately as the younger man fell into his outstretched arms for their now ritualised post-spanking, "slate is wiped clean" hug.

Pulling the silly kid into him tightly, Gibbs took the opportunity to whisper into his ear "do not even think about making me do this again for a long time DiNozzo, it's not exactly picnics and roses for me either, got it?"

As the young agent pulled away from him and nodded his head in rueful chagrin, Gibbs reached out and ruffled his hair affectionately "that's my boy."

Glancing at his watch, he saw that he had been absent from the investigation for well over two hours at this stage. Sighing, he assessed the pros and cons of sending Tony home for the day to recover or keeping him with him.

He decided against sending the boy home. Tony always liked to be, and needed to be close to him after any kind discipline session he had earned himself. Gibbs would only admit to himself, and even that was at a push, that he too liked keeping the kid close by after tanning his backside, his deep seated paternal feelings for the recalcitrant agent manifesting itself in a desire to watch over him until he was back to his bouncy class clown self.

"Ok DiNozzo, you take a few moments and get yourself together, but then I need you back up in the bull pen ready to work and to apologise to McGee, is that clear?"

"Yes boss" came the automatic reply, but as Gibbs took in the demeanour of his now seemingly lost in thought agent, he frowned in concern.

"What is it Tony?" he asked gently, always mindful of any changing emotions the kid may experience after a chat where the main conversationalist was his belt.

The agents face flushed and he looked away in obvious embarrassment, "nothing boss" he answered unconvincingly.

"Tony?" Gibbs's voice had taken on an edge of anxiety. "What is it? What are you thinking? Come on, talk to me."

The still silent agents gaze found the floor, and his face flushed a deeper shade of ruby red.

Clearing his throat he eventually managed to stutter out an answer, albeit shamefacedly.

"I was just..thinking. Well, I was just wondering..what it would be like if I actually was _your boy_ " he eventually offered in mumbled mortification, clearly referencing his boss's term of affection as he had ruffled his hair moments previously.

Closing the space between them in two strides, Gibbs reached up and gently slapped the back of the embarrassed Tony's head.

"There is no **'if'** DiNozzo. There has never, ever been an if."


	2. Epilogue

Gibbs looked on in pride as his now returned to self Tony, apologised without equivocation to a relatively startled, but happily accepting looking McGee. As his two boys exchanged a brief hug he smirked somewhat, they really were like warring brothers that were actually the best of friends at the end of the day.

The remaining work day passed without further incident, and it was concluded that the Petty Officer had indeed committed suicide. This meant that the team were once again restricted to cold cases, much to their collective horror.

Gibbs frequently glanced up to see Tony squirming somewhat in his chair, which satisfied him as to the fact that the lesson he had imparted had been sufficiently thorough. As he glanced up to check on the man surreptitiously once more, he frowned as he saw the younger man begin to aim a well crafted paper ball at the top of the engrossed Ziva's head.

Making stern eye contact with the incorrigible man, he fought to suppress a smirk as the caught red handed Tony let the ball fall from his hand sharply, and dropped his head back down to his stack of cases like his life depended on it.

 _He's back_ thought Gibbs in unashamed happiness, which was then tinged with rueful suspicion. _Be careful what you wish for Jethro_ he told himself silently. Tony, when on form, was a handful. Although the older man would never verbalise it to any entity other than his own consciousness, he was glad he was _his_ handful.

Standing up to grab a well needed coffee, Gibbs began to make his way out of the bull pen and was surprised when he had one Timothy McGee hot on his heels. As they nearly collided in the relatively private corridor that led to MTAC, he turned round wearily to face his junior agent who clearly wanted to speak to him privately.

Remembering that Tim had had a rough day, Gibbs made a conscious effort to prevent his coffee deprived state from stiffening his demeanour with his junior team member.

"You ok McGee?" he said kindly to his youngest agent, who was clearly waiting for some kind of prompt to say what was on his mind.

"Uh yeah boss, I'm fine…I was just, well….I was just….uhh."

Sighing, Gibbs reached out and rapped the younger man round the head gently.

"Sometime today McGee, if I don't get coffee soon, one of you is going to die. By one of you, I mean you."

Taking a clearly steadying breath, Tim eventually blurted out "well, it's just…I was just wondering, well hoping more so I guess, that you weren't…umm, that you weren't too hard on Tony boss, I wound him up at the scene, I'm not entirely blameless."

Gibbs felt a surge of pride for his youngest naval offspring, it wasn't so long ago that Tim couldn't even make eye contact with him, now here he was apportioning blame to himself that he didn't deserve in an attempt to protect his teammate.

Gently squeezing the clearly worried agents shoulder gently, Gibbs smiled a rare smile at the tech enthusiast before him.

"Tony's fine McGee, he's fine. So stop worrying and stop blaming yourself, ok?"

As the youthful face in front of him broke into happy relief, Gibbs snorted and gently rapped his head once more.

"Go on now, back to work. You know I don't like Tony and Ziva left alone, if she kills him without any witness, that's a ton of paperwork I don't want to have to deal with."

McGee left out a derisive snort in agreement, and obediently turned and trotted back towards the team bull pen, Gibbs watching him in amusement.

Making his way to his beloved coffee cart, the seasoned agent sighed and thought about how different his two boys were, but how alike they were when it mattered most.

 _When it came to each other._


	3. The Epilogues Epilogue

Gibbs made his way wearily out of the NCIS base for the last time that day, several hours after the team had left. He noted in surprise that it was night time. He really ought to work on keeping a more normalised schedule he told himself. He then silently thanked god that he was just a car ride away from finally collapsing with a cold beer and a new issue of his favourite boat enthusiast's magazine. He marvelled at how exhausted he felt, not wanting to admit to himself that disciplining Tony, or indeed any of his adopted offspring's, was an incredibly emotionally draining experience. He _was_ a former marine gunnery sergeant after all.

Clambering into his trusty old model car he sped away from the worries of the day, his mind full of refrigerated alcohol and new design ideas for his latest construction project. As heavy rain began to fall, he groaned as he was prevented from making decent headway to his home as a result of inane road works. About thirty minutes elapsed and he moved a mere one hundred meters. Grinding his teeth in frustration, he flipped the radio on and slunk back in his chair wondering why God was testing him in this way.

Eventually, the car squelched through the driveway that led to Gibbs's home which stood in complete darkness. Killing the engine thankfully and stepping out of his car, the agent squinted through the now torrential rain. Fumbling for his house key and feeling the uncomfortable trickle of water run down his back he made a dash for his front door.

The rain was so severe in its intensity that for a moment he couldn't quite make out the car that was parked nearly on his front porch steps in the most peculiar fashion. Frowning in suspense, the now highly alerted man automatically reached for his weapon, the end of product of having spent years on the job.

Approaching the parked and lifeless car with his firearm raised wearily, the experienced agent issued a loud warning, well as loud as was possible over the sound of the thundering downpour. When the verbal warning to exit the vehicle elicited no response he moved closer still. Casting an appraising eye over the immobilised car, his stomach suddenly did a circus level acrobatic flip.

 _This was Tony's car._

Holstering his weapon immediately, Gibbs pushed his way through the rain and wrenched open the driver's door of the haphazardly parked vehicle. He winced as the putrid smell of intense alcohol hit him in the face with an unmerciful blow. Reeling, he looked wildly into the cars interior and his jaw dropped when his brain caught up with what his eyes were seeing.

"Ohhh…hey there bossman! How…*hiccough*…..how're you Gib…Gibbso?" the clearly highly inebriated Tony slurred, his head lolling unsteadily on his shoulder. He had obviously just awoken from a drunken stupor by the force of the doors opening. As Gibbs continued to gape in shock, he noted with horror the nearly empty bottle of whiskey wedged between the young man's legs.

"DiNozzo" he eventually managed to whisper in terror tinged shock. "What the hell is this, what are you doing?"

"Weeelll Gibby" the drunken Tony began "I did…*hiccough* I might….have, done…did a thing."

"What thing Tony, what are you talking about" asked the astonished agent, crouching down beside the stupefied DiNozzo in panic.

The fact that Tony had driven to his house, which represented a considerable distance from the younger man's apartment, in this state swum in front of his eyes making him feel nauseous.

Tony's head rolled again, causing him to look for a moment, quite manic. Gibbs stared with his heart beating wildly as he tried to understand how his agent could have left his gaze completely sober and apparently mentally stable mere hours ago, and somehow now, be in this condition.

Sniggering at something that was apparently wildly funny, the young agent eventually opened his mouth in explanation once more.

"I pun… _punched_ my father Gibbs" the drunken boy snorted, making a punching movement in the air and giggling loudly at his own hilarity.

"He c-came over to my place again and we got…*hiccough* all up in it again and I knock..knocked him on his ass. He's gone home now though" he added helpfully, as if this was the fact that the again gaping Gibbs would be most concerned about.

The terror that had welled up inside the older man was now rapidly giving way to rage. _How could Tony have done this? Risked his life like this?_

These questions rattled around the elder agents head like stones in a tin can. Taking a deep breath, as if his life depended on it, Gibbs sought to get a hold of himself.

As he looked up from his quick attempt at anger management, he saw Tony had completely given way to sleep. He was gently snoring and lay slumped over the wheel of his beloved car. Sighing, Gibbs wrangled the glass liquor bottle from the lap of the young man and tossed it aside. Unbuckling the boy's seatbelt that he somehow managed to have the sense to put on, he placed his hands gently under each of Tony's arm and equally gently, lifted him out of the car. Tony didn't stir, the effects of the alcohol being stronger than his resolve to stay awake, and he merely snored into the older man's chest.

Lifting a still and snoring DiNozzo easily over his shoulder, Gibbs was silently thankful for his military training. Quickly unlocking his front door, he made his way with the unconscious Tony still draped over his shoulder to the guest room that was essentially both Tim and Tony's room as they stayed there quite frequently. Pulling back the sheets of the first single bed, a weary Jethro placed his sleeping headache gently down on it and laid him out in a comfortable position. Tony still did not awaken.

Pulling off the kid's shoes and his now wet shirt, Gibbs quickly reached into the nightstand and pulled out a fresh t-shirt. Putting it on the drunken Tony with ease, he saw that he was already wearing comfortable sweat pants that had not gotten wet as Gibbs's fireman lift had acted as a bizarre rain cover of sorts. Satisfied that the boy wasn't in wet clothing and was comfortable, the beleaguered man pulled the covers softly over the snuffling Tony, who subliminally snuggled into them with a contented sigh.

Leaving the room quietly, he quickly returned with an empty bucket which he placed beside the sleeping Tony's bed, and a tall glass of water and two aspirin which he placed on the nightstand. Pulling a chair over to the bedside of his sleeping agent, the elder man plopped down warily and watched carefully, the rhythmic rising and falling of his senior agent's chest. Satisfied that Tony's breathing wasn't in any way restricted, he relaxed somewhat.

Placing a hand loosely on the tousled sandy brown hair of the sleeping kid he sighed heavily and closed his eyes in despairing anxiety. He suddenly wished with all his might that Shannon were still alive, she'd know how to make Tony feel better. He was hopeless with these kinds of.. _things_ he told himself in annoyance.

As the sleeping form before him gave a stuttering snort, he looked up anxiously, but Tony merely turned to his other side and continued snoring happily.

"What the hell am I going to do with you DiNozzo" he whispered to the room at large.

If Tony had been awake, he would have a very good idea what Gibbs would do with him.

As the jaw of the older man tightened at the thoughts of Tony's life risking behaviour, it was evident he knew _exactly_ what he was going to do with him.

"Sleep well Tony" he muttered his anger returning.

" _You're going to need it."_


	4. Embracing Epilogue Extendibility

As the suns gentle rays began to spill over his face, Tony feebly opened his eyes. A few moments passed and he lay completely still, in a confused stupor. This confusion quickly gave way to pain, a soon to be explanatory pain. As he closed his eyes tightly against the demolition site hammering that was taking place inside his head, his mind began to reel wildly. As the wave of nausea crashed gently over him, he let out an audible groan.

 _What the hell did I do…._

 _What the hell am I doing here..._

With these thoughts doing somersaults inside his already spinning head, he painstakingly sat up, wincing as the change in position increased the discomfort of his already tender state. Glancing at his watch he saw it was eleven am. In Gibbs's house, that meant it was the middle of the day. Dropping his head into his hands he fervently racked his brains trying to figure out he came to be in his and Tim's room in their boss's house and why he felt one of Ducky's more unfortunate cadavers.

As the piecemeal memories of the previous night began coming back to him like a particularly complex jigsaw, that had several important pieces missing, he felt the pangs of irritation. Grinding his teeth in frustration at the lack of immediate information, he closed his eyes once more and tried to relax his brain in an effort to conjure up his precise movement from the night prior.

 _Ok think, Tony, think_ he told himself sharply, _what went down last night?_

I assaulted my father.

 _That's ok. I can live with that. Happily so, in fact._

I hit the whiskey Abby gave me for my last birthday pretty hard….got a little wasted.

 _Well, that wasn't my smartest move… I know I can't handle whiskey….but anyway._

How did I get here? I was at home when…during, well… when _he_ came back.

 _Did Gibbs bring me here?_

Did I call him when I was wasted? No no, _please_ no. Please don't let me have drunk dialled Gibbs.

Bringing his one sided mental conversation to a close when it yielded no further results, Tony stood up wearily and winced as the predicable onslaught of nausea intensified in its attack. Figuring that he would just grab a shower and apologise profusely to his boss for disturbing his night by dragging him out to collect him, he glanced out the window to see did he need a cab in the case of any inclement weather.

A few moments passed before Tony could register the unnatural breeze that had begun to caress his tonsils. It was only then that he realised his jaw was hanging open. His jaw was hanging open, because he realised his life was hanging in the balance. His life was hanging in the balance because he realised, upon seeing _his_ car parked manically on the front steps of one Leroy Jethro Gibbs's home, _that he must have driven here himself._

Fighting diligently to retain composure of himself, the young agent scoured his protesting mind for the exact details of his transportation that led to his waking up in the recently departed bed, and not his own.

This time to both his relief and his horror, his brain delivered. In full. The room before his eyes began to swim and out of focus, as he grappled with the facts as they presented themselves.

 _Oh no, this can't be happening…please let this be a dream, please…._

Clinging onto this admittedly childish thought, he pressed down on his lip in a frantic effort to test his consciousness. As the answering pain confirmed his worst fears, he quickly returned to his seating position on the rumpled bed, quite sure his legs couldn't support him for another moment under the crushing realisation he was currently contending with.

When he finally possessed a full and frank picture of what he had done last night, Tony suddenly felt very grimy. The effects of his high liquor consumption coated his teeth and seemed to cling to his previously perfect hair, the remainder oozing from his pores. Holding true to his vain persona, he didn't want to die without looking his absolute DiNozzo best.

With this thought in mind he made his way slowly and quietly to the en suite bathroom he and Tim shared when staying over at Gibbs's place. As he dragged his protesting body into the shower, he considered the pros and cons of just slipping out the window of his bedroom and booking a one way ticket to Buenos Aires. He had heard it was particularly nice there at this time of year. Letting his eyelids fall once more in despair, he knew he could flee to Timbuktu and his presumably apoplectic boss would still manage to hunt him down. With Marine Core ease, no less.

When the hot steaming water could no longer aid his thought process, the thought absorbed Tony reluctantly turned the stream of water off and exited his safe haven. Quickly towelling himself dry and forcing his hair to behave with some semblance of dignity, he brushed his teeth and sighed as the simple action made the room spin. Returning to his room, he dug around in his nightstand for a change of clothes. Finding an old college pullover and some sweatpants, he fished around for a clean pair of socks and then made his crumpled bed.

Looking around aimlessly he tried to muster the courage that would enable his legs to carry him to the bottom level of the house he had nearly driven into last night. It was only then that he spied the glass of water and two aspirin located beside his bed. Gulping the medication down gratefully, he felt an intense surge of guilt. He put his boss through so much aggravation that he didn't need, and that he most certainly didn't have to put up with. Hell, any other sane person in an authoritative role would have screamed bloody murder for his resignation a long time ago.

Deciding in a fit of transient bravery that it was better just to bite the bullet, he padded softly across and out of the room. Out on the familiar landing his resolve wavered somewhat, but he continued to make his way down the stairs to where death presumably waited. Peering into the living room he noted it was empty. The faint strains of a radio were wafting down the hall, along with the smell of strong caffeine. Taking an inordinate gulp of air, he trudged onwards to the kitchen. Pushing open the door gently, he saw Gibbs sitting in his favourite chair reading the paper with the remains of a breakfast before him.

As the two men made eye contact, Tony again considered turning on his heel and running out the front door. That thought was pushed from his head, when the older man gave a brief jerk of his head indicating that Tony should sit in the chair beside him. Not wanting to antagonise the situation any further, this he did with no complaint. As his boss stood, he habitually flinched in anticipation of a searing head slap. It never came. What came in its stead was a large plate of bacon and eggs, with a hefty side of toast. Usually, the younger agent could eat with the best of them. Today, the perfectly cooked breakfast made the lining of his stomach curl up in floundering protest.

Eying the slight green tinge that settled over the boys face, the now calmed Gibbs pushed the plate closer to him.

"Tony. You are _going_ to eat" he stated simply, albeit in a tone that brooked no argument.

Assessing the perils of his situation, a hunger devoid DiNozzo decided that this was a battle he could lose the hard way or the easy way. Picking up his knife and fork he obediently began eating the cooked breakfast and after the first two or three bites, began wolfing it down in earnest, amazed by his spontaneous hunger.

Seeing this from behind the paper he had returned to, Gibbs smirked somewhat. Although, he reasoned, it was a heavy burden to carry…always being right.

When the last of the plate had been cleared, he saw Tony begin to fidget in his chair. Clearly unnerved by his boss's lack of a verbal tirade, head slap or anything that would indicate how much trouble he was in. Noting this with a grim satisfaction, the elder man let the younger one squirm for an appreciable time before standing up. With a jerk of his to head to indicate that Tony should follow him, he swept from the kitchen, with an apprehensive DiNozzo hot on his heels. Reaching the staircase he indicated for Tony to go upstairs.

"Go upstairs and put some shoes on, and then get right back down here" he said simply, but with that suspicious air of genial calmness.

When Tony paused to stare at him in confusion, the first Gibbs slap of the day landed with unnerving skill across the back of the startled agents head.

" _Today_ if you wouldn't mind DiNozzo, if you'd like to live through it that is."

Watching as Tony immediately scampered up the stairs, Gibbs leaned against the banister and sighed heavily. He really was getting too old for this. He grimaced as he thought of the day that lay ahead of both himself and his seemingly irrevocably incorrigible agent. He wasn't sure of much in life, having had unspeakable tragedies befall him. One thing however that he _was_ sure of, was that before the end of the day, Anthony D. DiNozzo would never again think of putting alcohol to his lips and his hands to a steering wheel in any kind of sequence.

As the highly wary looking Tony descended the stairs for the second time that day, Gibbs merely gave another jerk of his head and stalked out the front door and into his yard. Following at a cautious distance, the young agent winced when he saw up close and personal the horrifically manic nature in which his beloved car was parked.

He looked up at the feeling of cold metal keys in his hands that his supervising agent had just pressed into them. Feeling the burning stare of the older man infiltrate his vital organs, Tony bit his lip and looked away in guilt based shame.

"Move it into the middle of the lawn" Gibbs directed sharply at Tony's drop in gaze.

Nodding quickly, the regretful Tony slipped into the seat of his pride and joy and closed his eyes in misery at the whole situation. He deftly manoeuvred the vehicle into the directed location, a dirt patch that Gibbs often used for repairing aspects of his boat that weren't basement friendly. Killing the engine and attempting to push the flashbacks of his previous nights driving out his mind, he quickly exited the car and stood quietly as Gibbs strode straight past him and into his outside work shed. As there had been no instructive jerk of the head, Tony took it as an order to remain where he was, which he did in mounting trepidation.

A few moments later his boss crossed the yard in as quick a stride as was permitted by the excessively large box he was carrying in his arms. Tony's eyes grew even wider in confusion. When he was in trouble Gibbs usually dealt with him in alarming expediency, the fact that he could still think of sitting was an anomaly.

Setting the mysterious box on the ground Gibbs finally addressed his bewildered agent.

"One question, Tony. I am going to ask you one question. You are not going to lie to me, attempt to lie to me, equivocate with me or do anything other than tell me the simple truth. Is that clear?"

Tony felt his head move up and down in agreement.

Fixing Tony with a glare that even the previous Mrs Gibbs's hadn't seen he waited a few moments until the boy was squirming to his satisfaction.

"Did you start drinking _before or after_ you got into this car and decided to drive here Tony?"

Tony gulped and looked down at the dirt under his feet. The million dollar question he never thought he'd have to answer hung in the air like wildfire. Steeling his nerves, he looked up and into the blue eyes that were studying him with an uncomfortable intensity and willed the words to exit his mouth.

"Before, boss. I… started drinking before I drove here."

Gibbs gave a curt nod at this news and fought hard to keep his expression neutral. He knew in his heart that this would be the answer but he had still hoped against hope that it wouldn't be.

"Thought so" he said quietly whilst bending down to flip open the lid of the bulky box he had been carrying. Tony's gaze instinctively went towards it and what he saw did nothing to ease his confusion, only intensify it. Layer upon layer of all manner of tools lay within the carrier. Tony, being a pretty competent bordering on good mechanic recognised them all immediately as vehicle specific tools.

The elder of the agents watched as confusion spread once across the boys face and closed his eyes briefly. What he was about to do was far from pleasant, and he heartily wished he didn't have to do it. The kid had however, had left him with no god damn choice. Drawing up the intense anger he felt with Tony as a guiding light for what was to be a ferociously unpleasant conversation, he cleared his throat and began the explanation that would ease Tony's confusion. By replacing it with knowledgeable misery.

"You are going to completely dissemble this car. Piece by piece. I want the entire engine taken apart, wheel off, steering wheel off, the whole nine yards. The only things I want in one piece is the body and the windows. There are stacks of storage boxes in the shed. You will use them to store and label every piece you take apart. The tires, you can hang on the hooks in the shed."

As Tony opened his mouth in horror, Gibbs pressed on, determined not to give him any opportunity to get in even more trouble than he was already in.

"You have shown me that you're not responsible enough to have this car Tony. I can't trust you with it. You could have killed yourself last night. You could have killed someone else, a child crossing the street, anyone. You could have lost your job had you been stopped. I can't protect you from consequences like that. You will not be given the opportunity to repeat this mistake for a very long time. You can have the car back when I am satisfied that you've seen the light when it comes to putting your life and the lives of others in needless and senseless danger. You will not have it back before then."

Tony merely gaped at the uncharacteristically long speech proffered by the weary looking agent. Closing his eyes in aguish he simply couldn't help but plead with the angry man.

"Please…please Gibbs, not this. I know I screwed up last night, but please boss, please don't take away my car. It's my pride and joy."

Eyes narrowed dangerously, the supervising agent fixed the senior agent with a warning glare.

"This is not a debate. It is not a discussion. It's what's happening. Any more back chat from you, and it'll just be made all the worse. Your call Tony."

Positively sure that the situation was physically incapable of being made any worse, Tony's instincts of self preservation won out and he merely nodded miserably in acceptance of his sentence.

Seeing Tony wasn't going to put up any more fight, Gibbs breathed a private sigh of relief.

"Good. You have till five pm Tony, dinner will be ready at half past and I want this done and you washed up and ready to eat by then. Got it?"

Shuffling from foot to foot the clearly pained DiNozzo mumbled "got it boss" quietly in response, knowing there really was no other response optional.

With another curt nod, Gibbs turned on his heel and strode into the house thinking about working on his boat to relax for a while. He worked hard on sanding down the selected section of his project, feeling the tension slip off of him as he did so. After a couple of hours he glanced at his watch and started upstairs.

A few moments later he was out in the yard once more with a glass of Tony's favourite lemonade and a sandwich. The car was now a ruin of its former glory. Tony was drenched with sweat as a result of working under an unseasonably warm day.

He gulped down the proffered food and drink gratefully and quietly appreciated the quick squeeze of the shoulder his boss gave him before heading back into the house, calling over his shoulder that he had two hours left to complete the task.

Two hours came and went and Tony was thankful to be finished in the allocated time restraints. His precious car for the most part was now boxed and in storage, with only the non dissembling friendly parts and body remaining, propped up on one of his boss's many curious tools. Gibbs had assured him he would cover it with a tarp and move it to a more sheltered position later on.

Making his weary way back into the house, he quickly took his second shower of the day and changed into a similar outfit, grateful for the quantity of his clothes that were housed at his boss's place. Trotting downstairs once more he was greeted by a delicious smell, an oddly familiar smell. Once again pushing the kitchen door open gently, he was relieved when his boss offered him a small smile in greeting as opposed to this morning's glare.

Plopping down in his indicated place, his stomach rumbled when he saw the contents of the place his boss placed in front of him.

Looking up at Gibbs as he sat down opposite him, he asked questioningly, "my favourite boss?"

Shrugging somewhat sheepishly, the former marine mumbled "yeah well, thought today might be rough on you so…" before staring at his own plate intently.

Tony, feeling a mixed rush of guilt and affection, merely nodded and focussed sharply on his own plate as well. Silence ensued for a few moments before talk turned to work and soon the two men were chatting and laughing animatedly. As Gibbs unwillingly snorted at his Tony's rather crass humour, his face fell a fraction as he realised they had both long since been finished their dinner. Taking a deep breath, he resolved it was better to just get the damn thing over and done with.

Looking up at his soon to be very uncomfortable agent, he strove to resume his firm tone of voice.

"Ok Tony, why don't you go on up to your room and wait for me there. I'll be up in a few minutes."

Predictably Tony's expression changed from neutral to horrified in milliseconds. When Gibbs sent him to his room like that it was always because they needed to have a… _chat._ Tony had thought that would be dispensed with on the basis that his car had not only been confiscated but her sanctity and character had been ruthlessly violated.

Struggling to find his voice he stuttered and stumbled over his first round of whining.

"Boss? Why do I have to go upstairs, you took my _car_? Isn't that enough? Boss, no c'mon please."

Anticipating this line of protest, Gibbs merely sat back in chair and folded his arms placing firm eyes on his now petulant looking agent.

"Yes, I took your car" he agreed calmly. "However, that was only the first part of your punishment. You know full well there is no way you're getting away from this with taking any pleasure in sitting. I believe I made my feelings on your outrageous behaviour pretty clear Tony, do I need to repeat myself on the matter? You know, about you endangered the lives of innocent people as well as yourself?"

Gaping at his boss, Tony cast around wildly for another form of reasonable argument. Seeing one, but knowing the likely answer to it he fought with himself internally for a few moments and decided foolishly, to play it.

"Boss, when I did …what I did. I wasn't working. We weren't on the job. So you know…well you know… _technically_ you can't…" he faltered immediately under the now feral look that was twisting the features of one SA Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

"I _can't…_ DiNozzo? Is that right?" he asked in a dangerously sweet voice.

Shaking his head vehemently in the negative Tony backtracked wildly.

"No boss, I…no, I don't know what I was saying. Must be the food, it's so rich and delicious, makes my brain fuzzy, you know how it is."

He attempted a light hearted chuckle, but choked on it when the older man arched an eyebrow in menacing response.

Leaning forward across the table, Gibbs spoke in deliberately level tones whilst simultaneously repressing the urge to head slap Tony into next year.

"Get yourself up those stairs right now and get to your room Anthony, I'll be up in a few minutes. Get going. _Now."_

Wincing at the usage of his full name, Tony nearly tripped over himself in his haste to obey. Scrambling from the kitchen and up the stairs, he was sitting on his bed in record time. As Gibbs heard the young man nearly fall headlong into the room he shared with Tim, he snorted.

 _How can one kid be this much work_ he thought to himself ruefully as he began to quickly clear away the table. Ten minutes later he was finished and he rubbed his hands tiredly over his face. Realising that it wasn't fair to keep Tony waiting any longer than was necessary, he marched quickly up the stairs and towards the once guest room that had long since been otherwise commandeered.

Knocking gently on the door he was greeted by a muffled "come in boss."

Pushing open the door he sighed sadly at the sight of Tony sitting on the side of his bed and looking like his most beloved dog had just died. Biting back the lecture he had been fully prepared to dish out, he looked at his headache causing agent with a much kinder expression than he had worn all day.

"Do you know why this is about to happen Tony?" he asked quietly.

Nodding his head in the affirmative the kid looked at him with his trademark puppy eyes that frankly ought not to be physically possible, Gibbs winced as he looked at them.

"Because I could have killed myself, not to mention other people by getting wasted and driving" Tony stated simply, before adding "I really screwed up this time didn't I boss?" before dropping his head and staring at the carpet miserably.

Crossing over to the now somber DiNozzo, the elder agent ruffled his hair gently before crouching down in front of him and tipping his head gently up to level eye contact between them.

"Yep Tony, you did" he agreed "but everyone makes mistakes. So how about we just get this over and done with and put it to bed for good?"

With Tony's reluctant nod in the affirmative, he squeezed his shoulder gently.

"Good man Tony. Ok, you know the drill. I think you know it's a no to the pants"

Nodding once more, the younger agent stood and turned to face the side of the bed. Turning around one more time he flashed poodle eyes at his boss in an unspoken plea, which was answered with a stern glare. Sighing, the ever optimistic Tony turned back to face the bedside and reluctantly reached back and pushed his sweats and designer boxers to his knees, before bending slowly over it.

Grasping the other side of the bed with a grip and letting his head rest on his outstretched arms, he waited dejectedly for Gibbs to take up his familiar position behind him. He sulked internally as he always did when he was disciplined at home, at the irritatingly high height of the bed that perfectly allowed his tall frame to drape over it and place his backside in the direct firing line.

The seasoned agent closed his eyes in well versed reluctance, but quickly and deftly removed his belt for the second time in a mere forty eight hour period and prepared to tear up his agent's backside yet again. He saw with relief that there were no marks evident on the bare backside in front of him as a result of his and Tony's last _conversation._ Stepping forward he placed his free hand down firmly but comfortingly on the small of Tony's back and taking a firm hold of the thick leather belt in his hand, raised it high and brought the first down stroke fast and hard.

As always, Tony yelped loudly and squirmed. Pressing down harder on his back, he gently restrained the kid and drew his arm back once again, landing the second stroke a mere centimetre under the first one. Tony squawked loudly once more and Gibbs knew that even though there were no marks, a strapping on an already recently strapped backside was a lot harder to take. Closing his eyes against this fact, he quickly settled into a deliberate rhythm, methodically covering every single inch of Tony's bared backside. The previously pale skin was quickly changing from a dusty pink to a ruby red under the belts admonishments.

In reluctance, Gibbs pressed down firmly on the small of the now sniffling and whimpering Tony's back, tipping him forwards so as to gain better access to his tender sit spots. Knowing what was coming Tony issued his first round of teary pleading.

"No…n-noo, boss please not there. Please….I'll never do it again, please not _there_ …"

Gritting his teeth in parental despair, Gibbs tried his hardest to block out his anguished agents pleas and brought the belt down sharply on the tender curve where his upper thighs met his backside.

Tony began howling profusely and squirming vigorously under his boss's restraining hand in response.

Tightening his grip on the wriggling Tony, the battle worn Jethro began a new cycle of strokes at the top of an already very well strapped backside, working his way logically downwards once more. He inwardly groaned as he felt the torso under his hand begin to heave with sobs, as the outwards and vocal wailing and protests ceased.

 _For his own good, this is for his own good…you're doing this for his own good…_

With that mantra rattling around in his head, Gibbs continued with his diligent whipping of his senior agent. He took extra care in addressing an escaped patch of his agents upturned rear, ensuring it was as red as the rest of his posterior before he moved on. Tony lay slumped under his hand, his earlier attempts to evade the stinging leather belt long since abandoned. Silent sobbing radiated through his upper body and Gibbs had to muster up all his extensive training in conquering emotions to continue with the boy's punishments.

Beginning a new, and mercifully final, cycle of strokes he brought the heavy belt down expertly over and over again in a logical progression. The backside underneath his practiced hand glowed a resolute ruby red. Biting down on his lip in self preparation, he very gently tipped the silently weeping Tony forwards for the last time and issued an intensive round of stinging blows to the evidently very well spanked sit spots of the young agent he cared so much about. With the final snap of the belt meeting skin echoing around the room, he immediately threw the belt out of his hand as if it was burning him.

Sitting down on the bed beside the sobbing young agent, he began the habitual comforting he always delivered after Tony had had his backside tanned. Placing one hand loosely once more on the small of the boys back he rubbed soothing and comforting circles on it, whilst his other hand was equally loosely placed on the tousled hair of his contrite reprobate.

He spoke in a low voice to the face down Tony, muttering reassurances of forgiveness and pride in the manner in which the kid had accepted his punishment. They stayed in that position for quite a long time, with Tony's crying being incrementally reduced to sniffling with every kind assurance spilling forth from his boss's mouth and every circle rubbed on his lower back. Eventually the crying stopped altogether and the only sounds that emanated from the young agent were that of post crying sniffling and snuffling.

Satisfied that no fresh tears were falling from Tony's eyes and that he had calmed down substantially, Gibbs stood up slowly. Quickly reaching for and threading his belt back through his faded jeans, he stooped down and very gently pulled the sweats and boxers that were pooled around the now quiet boy's ankles, back up and over his throbbing backside. He winced with Tony as the soft cotton made offensive contact with the heated backside. Stepping back he gave Tony the space he needed to stand up at his own pace and in his own time.

A few brief moments passed and Tony raised himself wearily from his position on the bed and rubbed his hands over his red and wet eyes. He eventually looked out from behind his hands at his carefully watching boss and pulled his trademark post-punishment pout.

Rolling his eyes and feeling a heavy sense of déjà vu he opened his arms wide for the second time in recent days and sighed happily when the recalcitrant Tony shot into them and rested his hot head on his shoulder, sniffling very dramatically in hyperbolised self pity.

Reaching out very gently, he softly rapped the back of the pantomiming agents head.

"Knock it off you, or I'll give you something to sniff about. You deserved every bit of that" an exhausted Jethro reprimanded fondly.

Tony chuckled, which was like music to the older man's ears, and broke away from the post-spanking embrace. His face took on a serious expression for a moment and his still watery eyes met the sparkling blue ones in front of him. Taking a deep breath he said simply, but sincerely.

"I'm sorry boss, I'll never do it again."

Instantly believing the younger man, Gibbs reached out once more and ruffled his already windswept looking hair affectionately.

"I know you won't Tony, I know."

Tony grinned ruefully but then suddenly his expression took on a tinge of awkwardness.

Gibbs looked him over anxiously, "what's up Tony?"

The younger man shifted from foot to foot, and dropped his gaze in obvious embarrassment.

"Uh well…it's just I should probably get going now, I mean I've taken up enough of your weekend as it is boss…I guess I'll see you Monday?"

Gibbs briefly wondered if this kid's purpose in life was to exhaust him into an early grave.

Figuring that he was enough pain, the elder agent kept his hand firmly away from the aggravating agents head and instead fixed him with what felt like the millionth glare of the day.

"Going?" he snorted.

"You're going nowhere DiNozzo, you can consider yourself grounded for the rest of the weekend buddy."

Snapping his head up from the floor Tony squawked "grounded?!"

"Yes Tony, grounded. I have some gutters that need cleaning tomorrow, you can help me with that."

"Boss no, c'mon…" he whined "I was going to go on a date …"

Cutting him off, Gibbs interrupted firmly "yes you were _going_ to. Now you're _not going to._ Right now, you're going to know when to cut your losses and realise that you can be grounded for just this weekend, or every weekend for a month, totally your call Tony. What's it to be?."

Sighing in defeat, a deflated Tony mumbled "just this weekend boss."

Smirking slightly at the sulky pout plastered on his young agents face, the older man draped an arm lightly over his shoulders and chuckled, causing Tony to scowl with even greater vehemence.

Propelling a silently protesting Tony back down the stairs and into the living room, Gibbs grabbed the fluffiest cushion he possessed and tossed it gently into his arms.

"Get yourself settled down Tony, I'll grab us some snacks and we can watch one of your god awful films ok?" he asked gently, and was rewarded when a goofy grin suddenly spread across the young man's face and his head bobbed up and down in happy agreement.

Snorting and wondering what horrific visual experience he was about to be subjected to, Gibbs made his way into the kitchen and quickly fixed a tray full of Tony's favourite things to eat and drink and made his way back into the living room, where Tony was perched very delicately on a vast array of cushions he had amassed from the various couches in the room.

Rolling his eyes at the kid's dramatics, he settled down on the couch beside him and willed himself to enjoy whatever the subtitled action film flickering on the screen in front of him was. Hours comfortably passed and he was surprised that he did indeed enjoy Tony's choice in film, but Tony's company even more so. As the credits rolled onto the screen he glanced up at the kid beside him and saw his eyes were full of the telltale signs that he needed to sleep. Turning of the TV he gently shook his shoulder.

"Bed Tony, go on now, you're beat" he instructed gently.

"No boss, _you beat me_ " the sleepy agent corrected cheekily.

The mischievous kid's eyes suddenly fluttered wide open as he reached up to rub the sting out of his head.

"Don't push it" Gibbs chuckled, and pulled the again pouting Tony off of the couch and pushed him gently in the direction of the stairs. Ignoring the indignant protests that he wasn't tired and was quite capable of seeing himself to his own room, the older man softly pushed and prodded the complaining Tony all the way to and into his room. Pulling back the sheets of the bed and waiting patiently for Tony to collapse into it, he pulled them around the nearly immediately asleep agent.

Gently ruffling his hair for the last time, Gibbs made to exit the room.

As he reached the door, a sleepy voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Hey boss?"

"Yeah buddy?" Gibbs automatically replied, remembering he'd forgotten to bring a glass of water for Tony's bedside stand and making a note to bring one up before he went to his own bed.

"Do I _really_ have to clean your _gutters_?"

The elder of the two rolled his eyes in exasperation.

 _This kid even whines in his sleep_ he thought in amusement.

"We'll see Tony, we'll see. Go to sleep now."

With that he left the room and quietly closed the door behind him and smiled to himself as he thought of tomorrow's plans. It would do Tony no harm to think he was in for a pretty miserable Sunday if it would reinforce the lesson he hoped against hope he'd been successful in teaching him.

 _Still though…_ he told himself, _his face when he finds out we're going to that football game he's been harping on about for months instead is going to be priceless, guess Jen's right, it does pay to be nice to the right people sometimes._

As he heard the gentle beginnings of snoring emanating from Tony's room he made a further mental note to try and discuss the thorny topic of the kid's father when the issue wasn't so raw with his young charge. He felt the familiar tightening of his jaw as the thoughts of DiNozzo Senior penetrated his mind. Tony was certainly born into a raw deal in terms of his absentee and yet, disruptive father.

Well, his _biological father_ , he corrected himself, as he set off downstairs in search of water for when the sleeping Tony woke up at 4am in search of fluids, like he always did.


	5. Even Epilogue's End

As Tony's high pitched squeals of delight pierced his eardrums, Gibbs frowned in feigned annoyance, whilst being secretly thrilled to see the pure joy that danced on the boy's face as he learned of his football based Sunday over the breakfast table.

"Thought you said I was grounded boss?" he asked happily as he stared intently at the tickets in his hand, seemingly intent on ensuring their veracity.

"I did, didn't I?" the older man agreed with a chuckle, as he surveyed the still dumbfounded expression on Tony's face.

"Well, I guess you can be paroled for a couple of hours, but then straight back here, got it?"

The sandy brown head bobbed up and down in automatic response, "got it boss" replied the younger man absentmindedly as he cast a law enforcements eye over the hologram of the all important tickets.

Rolling his eyes, Gibbs gave the still beaming kid half an hour to be ready and set off to get changed and washed up himself. Thirty minutes later the two men were bundled into the elder agent's car, with Tony chattering non-stop about the respective merits and drawbacks of the announced line up of his favourite team.

Three hours later saw the two men back in the older of the two's car, with Tony still speaking nine to the dozen about the "spectacular" performance his side had given, with an in depth and play-by-play commentary that was completely lost on a bemused Gibbs, but who enjoyed hearing the younger man chat so happily regardless.

As they pulled back into the driveway of his boss's home, Tony turned to the older man and spoke with a gentleness that was a million miles away from his previous sports based monologue.

"Thanks for today boss, I really enjoyed it…but you didn't have to do this", before dropping his gaze to the floor of the now stationary car.

Rapping the boy lightly on the back of the head, Gibbs gently admonished "I know I didn't _have_ to, I _wanted_ to DiNozzo, now get your butt in that house and get ready for dinner."

Grinning his trademark grin, the young agent clutched his recently acquired foam finger and dashed from the car and through the front door, with an eye rolling Gibbs following close behind.

Dinner was a relaxed affair with the two men chatting amiably about anything and everything. As they cleared away the dishes, Gibbs agreed with feigned horror to let the bouncy Tony pick another film for the evening's amusement. As they settled down on the couch for the second night in a row, Tony suddenly turned with a pained expression on his face to his boss.

"How am I going to explain to McGeek and Ziva that I'm riding the subway to work tomorrow Gibbs" he suddenly whined, looking painstakingly aggrieved.

Reaching out the older agent issued a smarting headslap causing the surprised Tony to yelp.

" _McGee_ and Ziva only need to know what you tell them Tony, and you're not riding the subway tomorrow. I'll bring you, and swing by your place so you can get changed and grab one of those heinous Hawaiian shirts you insist on wearing on Monday's".

Rolling his eyes in disdain for his boss's lack of appreciation of his impressive wardrobe, he winced as another headslap came down on his already chastised head.

"Don't you roll your eyes at me" came the explanation to his questioning glance.

Huffing dramatically, the younger man settled back into his choice of film and was soon immersing the older man in another commentary about the intricate story line that it portrayed, which again fell on nonplussed ears but Gibbs let him chatter regardless, happy to see the kid was as jovial as ever.

Monday morning dawned bright and dewy and the two agents were soon trundling into the Navy Yard, with Tony clad obstinately in a particularly garish yellow Hawaiian number. As all of his team tricked into the bull pen, Gibbs issued the instructions for the day and set off in search of his morning coffee.

As he returned some twenty minutes later he spied at a distance, a highly uncomfortable looking Tony being oppressively cross examined by a giggling Ziva and a gloating McGee.

"Come on Tony, tell us. Where is your car. It is not in the parking lot, so we thought you were not here today. Yet, here you are. Yet, your car is not. You do not go anywhere without your prize possession. Did you have to sell it to pay for another teeth whitening session?" crooned Ziva in her lilting tones, attempting to tickle a confession out of an increasingly cranky looking DiNozzo.

"Did you lose it in one of your famous poker games Tony?" McGee added, snorting at the rising colour of the senior agents face as he tried to side step his two tormentors, and gain access to his desk which they were strategically blocking.

Walking briskly into the bull pen, Gibbs issued a searing headslap to first McGee who squealed in protest and then to Ziva, who grimaced in stoic Mossad acceptance.

"Tony's car is in the shop, it needs its annual service. I drove him here from his place this morning. Is there any other pressing questions that you two need to be answered before you deign to do your damn jobs?" he demanded of the now two sheepish looking agents, who quickly shook their heads in the negative and fled to the their respective desks.

Settling himself behind his own desk, Gibbs answered Tony's furtive look of gratitude with a quick jerk of his head and set to work on the pile of work that awaited him due again to the lack of an active case.

The day passed without event and hours later the supervising agent barked to his team to go home. Ziva and McGee hightailed it out of the bullpen, not wanting to experience their boss's humour at the end of a day spent working exclusively on cold cases. Tony wasn't far behind them, when he was pulled gently back by Gibbs.

In answering the unspoken question, he shrugged his shoulders and nonchalantly explained that he would drive him home. When Tony began to protest that he didn't have to ferry him around and that he could easily take the subway, he was silenced with a glare and quick Gibbs slap.

Tony then wisely acquiesced, silently glad of his boss's offer.

Anthony DiNozzo just didn't _do_ public transport all that well.

Two or three weeks slipped by lazily, and at the conclusion of their latest investigation Gibbs uncharacteristically congratulated his team on a job well done and briskly wished them a good weekend. As his three young agents made their way to the elevator, Gibbs called Tony back and pretended not to hear the teasing of "what did you do _now_ Tony" that came from the other two as Tony reluctantly stepped back off the elevator.

Trotting obediently to stand in front of his boss's desk as he was indicating, Tony racked his brains to figure out why he could be in trouble.

Leaning back in his chair and examining the fidgeting agent in front of him, the supervising agent snorted as he correctly surmised what was going on inside the kids head. Deciding to put him out of his misery, he explained the reason for his summoning of him.

"You're coming home with me tonight DiNozzo, and I'd cancel any plans you may have for tomorrow as well."

Predictably Tony's face fell in comedic fashion.

"But…but I didn't _do_ anything boss" he immediately protested. "If you're blaming me for the whole autopsy thing, that wasn't me!"

Gibbs narrowed his eyes as he surveyed his sulking agent, " _what_ autopsy thing Tony?"

Realising he'd put his foot in it, the younger man groaned inwardly.

"Uhh…no, no autopsy thing boss, I was… mistaken."

Sighing, but deciding to let whatever juvenile prank his recalcitrant charge had pulled slide, Gibbs gave him a brief glare before continuing.

"You're coming with me tonight, and cancelling your plans tomorrow because if you think that _I'm_ going to put that hunk of junk you call a car back together for you, you've got another thing coming" he concluded, holding up Tony's car keys that he had just fished out his pocket.

As the kid's face lit up brighter than a Christmas tree, the elder man couldn't help but smile warmly.

"Really?" the agent all but squeaked, "I can have it back now?"

Standing up from behind his desk and gathering his things quickly, Gibbs began gently propelling the apparently stunned kid from the bull pen, dropping the car keys lightly into his hand as he did so.

"Yes Tony, you can have it back now, but so help me if you make me regret this DiNozzo, your life won't be worth living, got it?"

The head bobbed up and down in manic agreement, as the goofy grin stretched across every inch of the kids face.

"Got it boss, got it."

As the elevator doors began to shut, the younger man beamingly turned to the older one.

"I have such a good idea for a movie tonight boss, you'll love it!"

Gibbs's answering groan of despair was drowned out as the elevator began to rumble loudly into life.

,


End file.
